


Over the Moon

by failedcharismacheck



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, this is dumb and sappy and gay and so am i
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 00:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11771514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failedcharismacheck/pseuds/failedcharismacheck
Summary: Now's as good a time as any. Now is perfect, actually. It's just a matter of finding the words and-- this is the hard part-- the nerve to say them.





	Over the Moon

There's too much light pollution, both emitting from the Resistance base and reflecting from this system's many moons, to see all but the brightest stars, but that's okay with Finn. Stargazing is less about the stars and more about the gazing. He and Poe lie on an old quilt spread out on the roof of one of several bunkers lining the base's perimeter.

It's technically against the rules to be up here, Finn thinks with some satisfaction. He's started collecting small acts of rebellion to go along with the big ones, the way one might collect unique seashells or pressed flowers. Most are fairly trivial, tiny or innocuous enough to go unnoticed by anyone not raised with his... strict upbringing, euphemistically put. It's the idea of it that matters. Poe has been more than happy to occasionally aid and abet.

On that technically forbidden rooftop, Finn lies with his head pillowed on Poe's bicep, leather jacket draped across him like a blanket. His arm, squashed between them, is falling asleep but he doesn't feel much like moving. The other hand rests on Poe's stomach, following along the rise and fall of the pilot's breathing.

Finn watches as Poe reaches up, one eye closed, and picks a star between his thumb and forefinger. He pantomimes wiggling it a bit before pulling his hand back, as if plucking a jewel free from inky black rock. He brings the "star" down in front of his face, turning it this way and that, seemingly inspecting it for imperfections. Satisfied, he nods and holds his thumb and forefinger out to Finn. "For you."

Finn looks from Poe's face, to his hand, and back to his face. "Are you serious?"

"Come on, man," Poe says, laughing a bit. "Play along with me, here."

Finn sighs and takes the imaginary star, pinching the air between Poe's fingers. Poe folds his now free arm behind his head and smiles softly as he watches.

Finn's imagination supplies a white, twinkling light between his fingers. He pretends to hold it up to his eye for a closer look. In his imagination, the bright white is flecked with opalescent points of color. "It's pretty," he says.

"Yep. I picked it out special, just for you."

Finn gives the star a small kiss, making Poe's smile grow, and tucks it safely into his shirt pocket. He gives it a pat. "Grab me a couple more next time you're up there?" Finn requests, nodding up at the sky.

"'Course," Poe agrees easily before pressing a kiss into Finn's hair. "I'll take a great big basket and bring you all of them."

"And maybe a moon, while you're at it," Finn adds. "If that's not too tall an order."

"Sure, pick your favorite." Poe gestures widely. This system has moons to spare. Thus the nights are never truly dark here. It's the small hours of the morning but Finn can still see Poe with relative clarity, though tinted a bit blueish. Finn thinks maybe he can see the tiny pinpoints of stars reflected in his eyes. Eyes that he's seen crinkled with laugher and dark with desire and heavy with sleep.

Now's as good a time as any, Finn thinks. Now is perfect, actually. It's just the two of them, peaceful and safe, in about as romantic a setting as one can ask for on a rebel military base. It's just a matter of finding the words and-- this is the hard part-- the nerve to say them.

"Hey," Finn says, quieter than he means to. He takes a deep breath, then another, and closes his eyes tight. "I think I love you, Poe Dameron." Finn feels the steady breathing under his hand hitch. It's the first time he's said it to Poe, but not the first time he's said it aloud. He's whispered it to himself on nights when he can't sleep, testing the way the syllables feel forming in his mouth and finding that he likes it. Each whisper is another piece for his collection. Poe's arm around his shoulder tightens, pulling him closer.

"I love you, too," he murmurs into Finn's hair, all out in one heavy exhale like a long-awaited release. He plants a series of kisses across the top of Finn's head. "I love you, Finn."

Finn props himself up on an elbow and though they kiss each other in no great hurry, his heart races. They told him he couldn't have this. Yet here he is, on a roof he's not supposed to be on, kissing a man who promises him stars.

"Love you," he says again when the kiss ends, because he does and he can and it feels good to say it.

"Love you, too," Poe repeats, and it feels just as good to hear it.

They resettle, arms around each other and Finn's head on Poe's shoulder. A few moments pass before Finn points up into the night at one of the many moons, a pale blue rock that shines brightly. "That one. I want that one."

Poe nods, quick and sure. "You got it."

**Author's Note:**

> Screams with my arms full of incomplete Star Wars fanworks


End file.
